


a son finishing his father's work

by panther



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Mirkwood, Return of the King
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panther/pseuds/panther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil fought Sauron once and lost his father. He will do everything he can to help his son face him now. Marching on Lothlorien is hard, because they think him lesser there, but for Legolas he marches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a son finishing his father's work

**Author's Note:**

> Thranduil took part in the last alliance between men and elves and marched on mordor. He lost his father there. Later he lost his wife to orcs too. His face is scarred by dragon fire. Thranduil and the elves went south to help Lothlorien and gut Dol Guldor. Canon (cept the wife bit which is movie canon). I think Thranduil went to stop those orcs at Lothlorien joining Mordor and facing his son and rolled with it. After seeing the movie this morning. I'm a bag of feels basically.

"You started this....forgive me if I finish it." The words haunt him now. He and his kin started something in ages gone by and now his only son must finish it. Yet this is no jewel quest. This is Sauron. He never speaks of it and tries to make sure others keep silent too. Now, many forget he was even there. They forget a lot about Thranduil. They forget he joined the Last Alliance of Men and Elves. They forget he lost his father at the Battle of Dagorlad. They forget he has fought dragons, lost his wife to Gundabad and held back the Darkness. They forget he did all this with no ring of power, only devoted soldiers and an iron will. 

Defeating the onslaught was long and bloody but it is done. Ravens from Erabor report now how prepare to defend Minas Tirith and Thranduil does not doubt Legolas is with them, with Aragorn. He wipes orc blood from his armour, dries it methodically, and changes his tunic. Someone could do it, for him, wipe the armour but Thranduil needs the structure and the distraction. He sees no way out of it for his son this time. He must lead his warriors South. The dwarves will guard all the borders if the Elves go South, or so they say. Dealing with them still feels wrong but even they seem honest this time. They had granted the Men of Dale safety after all and promised that if those elves who were not warriors, and the children, were under threat when Thranduil left that they too could find shelter under the Mountain. Celeborn and Galadriel were under siege. They would not ask Thranduil for aid if Elrond could provide it, of that the King is sure. So, there are no excuses, no sulks to be had. South, they must go. Reinforce Lothlorien and then move on Dul Guldur. He cannot shield his son but perhaps he can have less arrows heading his way.

His hair is matted and the edges on one side are covered in orc blood. He does not wash it. Let them who dare attack Lothlorien know he comes from slaughtering scum like them. His hair won't rust. Their armour as they lie dead upon the dust is another matter.

A bow is not his preferred weapon but it will let him attack as he rides in so he sets about finding one. The armourer looks stunned to see him. Knives and swords are usually delivered to him personally. Thranduil will never admit to the wrong turn on his way there.

"I require a bow, and a set of arrows of course." Stunned silence is the response. Elorair doesn't seem to believe Thranduil is there. Never before has he ventured down. The King decides not to mock or punish. "Much like my son's if possible. I taught him the craft, though his skill is his own hard work."

That jolts Elorair out of it. He nods and turns on his heel, disappearing behind a rack. Thranduil takes not of what arms they have left and ignores the nervous picking up and putting down of bows. The bow he is presented with his less like the army staple but it does suit Legolas and so him. The quaver is basic and is given with shaking fingers. 

"Peace, dear Elorair. War is not a time for appearances. Being a King will not save my life. Solid bows and a quaver full of sharp arrows alongside a sharp sword however, will. I thank you."

"My Lord," and a nod but Thranduil is already out of the room. Why had his son gone on the quest? He was not sent to Elrond for that. A suicide quest if ever there was one! Thranduil berates himself as he makes his way through the tunnels, elves scarpering as he moves. His son should have sent another and then reported back to him. Yet in his heart he knows he never would. Legolas was raised with far too much honour, far more than people think Thranduil has or could instil in another. Legolas could not let them go alone anymore than Thranduil could stop being a worried father despite the centuries of his child. Through the fear, he is proud. 

His sword is still sharp. He will require a horse though. It is not his usual but he has nothing else. It is a long ride so he gathers food, sends a mad to check all the warriors have water and lembas too, then he heads for the main gate. This is a battle like no other. The warriors are gathered and they split to allow him to the front. There is a steed to the side so he fetches it and brings to the centre, pulls himself up so everyone can see him. Silence falls. 

"As your King I have ordered you to once again prepare for battle. But this is not a battle for our Kingdom so I feel I cannot order you to go. I offer an explanation, and a choice. Sauron's forces now march on Lothlorien. They may see us lesser but they are kin, and they need help. They ask for aid. Dol Guldur runs deeper with orcs than we feared. Mordor marches on Gondor. If the orcs at Lothlorien overcome the Kingdom they will join those at Morder. Men will be overrun. There will be no where we can flee but the Havens, crossing Middle Earth and leaving every other race to their doom. Or maybe we can hide in the mountain, for a time. I will judge no one who does so. But they will come." He pauses, looks around blank faces, allows his true burned face to show and then assures the restless horse before continuing, "We have a chance to give Gondor a chance! I failed at putting down this evil once. I cannot do nothing now but I do not demand that you join me. Not this time. I only ask. I will ride at dawn."

With that, he steps down and goes to stand by the gate, back to everyone. He hears movement behind him but does not look. He will not have his face guilt anyone into going. This is no other battle. This will end an age. Some have not seen an age. Some have not seen half a century. Perhaps he has seen too many. The orcs have taken too much from Thranduil though. They will not take more from his land just because he said they much march. He never sought Orcs. He won't make his people do so now. 

Legolas has not been home in so long, too long. Even word to go to the Council of Elrond was sent by a messenger and reached him closer to Elrond than to his own father. After the Battle of the Five Armies and Tauriel, he never could settle. Even though Thranduil allowed Tauriel home, comforted her after her loss even, his son could never stay. Tauriel. An Elf and a Dwarf seemed so impossible yet there it was. So real. She was never the same. Few could understand her ache but he did. How neither of them faded away was testament to their will to survive. He did because he had Legolas. How Tauriel did he will never know. Thranduil was almost glad when she was killed. An end to her pain. He has had no such relief. His wife is long gone, her son about to join her. 

Someone brings a horse, wearing armour, fit for a King. He says his thanks, requests the beasts name and then reassures it and asks permission before jumping on. He is not used to horses when riding to battle. The horse snorts and paces, as if it too knows where it is going and what it will face. Dawn is upon them before Thranduil realises. Time passes so slowly and yet so fast to an Elf. He hears movement, of course he does, but he does not want to look. He fears that what he sees is a sign of his rule. He fears his long years of shutting them off because they received no respect has hardened them. He had no ring and therefore he felt bitter but he does not want that to matter now. Not now. How many would follow him by choice is a fearful question that every ruler faces.

Yet when he turns, every solider of his realm is there. They are all in their golden armour, all in place, rigid and ready to move. In fact more than that. As far as he can see his people stand ready to march. Some are in official armour, others in whatever they could find, some with nothing but armed, yet ready to defend Middle Earth. He had heard tales of many fleeing from Rivendell for the Havens. Not his people. They stand united, defiant, ready. Border guards, regulars, volunteers. They are all there. That means they trust Erabor to hold the borders, to protect the youngsters and the rest. More importantly they trust their King. Thranduil can do nothing but set his horse and lead them.

A dwarven scout party is waiting as they leave. No words are exchanged until Thranduil meets the leader. The dwarves take in the number of Elves pouring out of the woods and nod. One steps forward. 

"We keep our word. We will hold the line. Make sure nothing comes from the South. Any who fear are safe within the mountain. "

"You have my word and my thanks, Master Dwarf."

There is nothing more to say. 

The road is hard. The Kingdoms have little to do with one another and neither the dwarves nor men trade this way either. Orcs that cross the army's way are slaughtered but for the most part it is a slow, empty, eerie road. It takes them longer but they avoid the Goblin tunnels to save numbers. Thranduil hopes it will not mean that they are too late. 

They are not.

The tundra in front of Lothlorien is a battlefield but crows come from the trees. That means the forest is secure and the battle is not yet lost. Thranduil orders his arches to fire as soon as he can and the others to charge. He urges his steed ahead while letting his arrows fly. The orcs turn to charge but that is why they are there. He is no King once his horse falls. He is merely another soldier, another volunteer. He is no better than the rest. He does not see Celeborn nor Galadriel until it is all over. Healers pour from the forest but putting down the old bitterness is hard once the orcs are dead. Thranduil will never know why the Greenwood was denied a ring, why he was seen as lesser for not having one when surely it made his job harder. 

"You came to our aid, why?" Galadriel. First to irk Thranduil.

"Are we not kin? Does Sauron not look to end us all?"

"So long, you have done nothing."

The rage cannot be held back then. Nt then. Not after that. " _Nothing_? I have fought orcs and foul beasts for centuries. Spiders and the spawn of the darkness and worse while you stood and did _nothing_. As my home turned from Green to Mirk you did _nothing_. I am here now. I defend Middle Earth. So long men and dwarves have killed each other over _nothing_. Mortal lives are slim sure, you know this. Yet, I, after everything we have seen and done have an alliance with the dwarves of Erabor. I trust them to defend my land and our borders while I defend yours. Is that _nothing_ , oh Galadriel?"

Defending dwarves is odd yet suddenly he feels closer to them than his kin in Lothlorien. Wood elves are so looked down upon here. At least with the dwarves there is an understanding. At least now there is under Dain and his son, Thorin the second. At the end of the day an orc is an orc and he came to slaughter orcs. If Lothlorien will not stand with him he will march without them. 

"Peace. Let us plan together."

Right. He follows them into the woods with Captains of battalions and leaves the others on the edges of the woods on guard. The magic does nothing to him. If anything it annoys him and he wonders if it annoyed Legolas or enchanted him. It irks him that Galadriel seems to know what he wants to ask before he speaks.

"Your son. He came here with the Fellowship but by then Gandalf was lost to them. He is a credit to you, perhaps. Perhaps he is a credit to himself. The hobbits he brought with him were not like the one I heard of before. The men could be corrupted. The Dwarf I trust with my own life. Your son I think will learn to do the same. Middle Earth has _changed_."

"Obviously." Thranduil replies, if only to give him a few moments to process her words. Legolas was well here. He knows he went on but even that is a comfort. He cannot help his son now. 

"You did not wish him to join."

"When I sent him I did not think there was anything _to_ join." Thranduil points out.

"You fear for him."

"I am his father."

She falls silent after that and Celeborn comes forward with maps of the region, battle plans. That Thranduil can focus on. 

This is something he can do for his son.


End file.
